Author now believes judge didn't leak info to mob

He
no longer believes the late U.S. District Judge Harry Claiborne was leaking
materials from FBI search warrant affidavits to the mob in the early 1980s, as
he wrote in his 2010 book, "Straw Men."

He
thinks Frank "Lefty" Rosenthal was a double agent, providing
information to the FBI, then turning around and telling the Chicago mob what
agents would be doing.

That
way the good guys and the bad guys ended up protecting him while he played
them.

In
Magnesen's opinion, "Oscar Goodman, The Outfit and the FBI were all duped
by the master oddsmaker and manipulator, Frank 'Lefty' Rosenthal." Goodman
was Rosenthal's attorney.

One
example of Rosenthal's double agent role came to be known as "the Cookie
Caper" and proved to be a huge embarrassment to the FBI in January 1982
during an investigation into skimming at the Stardust.

Rosenthal,
as a top echelon informant, provided information to the FBI about how millions
of dollars were skimmed and transported from the Stardust when businessman
Allen Glick owned four Las Vegas hotels between 1974 and 1979, but Rosenthal
actually ran them. The ownership changed, but the skimming continued until the
Boyd Gaming Group bought the hotels in 1985.

Glick
was just a front, a straw man, for the mob. But he testified against the mob in
the Kansas City trials in 1985, portraying himself as an unwitting victim.

Rosenthal
neither testified against the mob nor was indicted in the skimming
investigations.

Rosenthal
told the FBI how the money was moved from the Stardust to the Chicago mob.

Magnesen
detailed how agents watched as Stardust casino manager Bobby Stella carried a
grocery bag from the casino on Tuesday afternoons and met Phil Ponto, another
Stardust employee, and gave him the paper bag, which he took to his apartment.
On Sundays, agents watched as Ponto would put the bag in his car trunk and
drive to church. Afterward, he traveled to another store parking lot and met
Joe Talerico, a Teamster, who put the bag in his trunk.

Talerico
then flew to Chicago via Los Angeles and met with mob boss Joseph Aiuppa in a
restaurant. After dinner, the much traveled bag landed in Aiuppa's trunk.

Mob
money on the move wasn't enough to build a case.

The
FBI applied for a search warrant for Talerico's car, and Claiborne gave his
approval.

Magnesen
now believes Rosenthal tipped the mobsters about the upcoming search.

In
January 1982, agents moved in, only to find cookies and a bottle of wine. No
cash. Plenty of embarrassment.

In
"Straw Men," Magnesen suspected that the judge, who committed suicide
in 2004, was leaking information from FBI search warrant affidavits.

Another
time, based on Rosenthal's information, agents decided to bug the executive
booth at a Stardust restaurant, Aku Aku, hoping to catch Stella talking about
the skim. Again, they sought approval from Judge Claiborne. Once the listening
device was installed, the executives talked about innocuous subjects. Women.
Weather. Golf. Almost as if they were taunting the FBI, Magnesen said.

Who
leaked the information about the Aku Aku bug and Talerico's travels is akin to
the other never-answered question: Who planted the bomb under Rosenthal's car
in October 1982?

Theories
are rampant. It's almost a trivial pursuit question for locals to theorize on
who did it.

Was
it Spilotro, who had an affair with Rosenthal's wife, Geri? Was it the Chicago
Outfit?

Once
again, Magnesen has a theory.

He
believes it was ordered by Nick Civella, the Kansas City mob boss, who was
tired of all the trouble Rosenthal had been creating in Las Vegas with his TV
show and his seemingly endless quest for a gaming license. "Civella was
dying of cancer and didn't care what Chicago thought about Lefty,"
Magnesen wrote in an email summary of his views. The bombing was 1982, Civella
died in 1983.

Magnesen
said he interviewed mob figure Joe Agosto a few weeks before he died in August
1983. Agosto said he had told Civella in 1977, "That Lefty. He's getting
out of hand. He's stirring up dirt all over Vegas. He's dangerous. He could
cause big problems with his big mouth and his TV show."

My
favorite story of the bombing was from retired UPI Correspondent Myram Borders,
who was driving home from the UPI office and passed Tony Roma's restaurant on
Sahara Avenue. She heard a boom and saw Rosenthal's car blow up. She quickly
turned into the parking lot.

"He
scrambled out of the car and was jumping up and down patting his clothes. His
hair was standing straight up … I didn't know if it was because of his recent
hair transplant or the explosion that made it stand up so straight," she
wrote in an email. "When I ran up and asked him what was going on, Lefty
said 'They are trying to kill me.' When I asked who, he shut up."

Rosenthal
died a natural death in 2008 in Florida. He was 79.

Magnesen
said he wouldn't have said these things publicly about Rosenthal, but now it is
widely known that Rosenthal was an informant. (I was the first to report it
after his death.)

Of
course, when Rosenthal cooperated with author Nick Pileggi for the book
"Casino," he didn't reveal his informant status. Nor did that make it
into the 1995 movie.

When
the movie came out, Rosenthal said, "The way you saw it in the movie is
just the way it happened."

Well,
not exactly. He left a few historical holes.

—
Jane Ann Morrison's column runs Thursdays. Leave messages for her at
702-383-0275 or emailjmorrison@reviewjournal.com. Find her on Twitter:
@janeannmorrison